Xasperated
by Scribbler
Summary: [one shot] Jamie tries to do laundry, but things don't go exactly as planned.


DISCLAIMER: Still not mine, and owing to lack of fundage, they probably never will be. Damn.  
  
WARNING: I was requested to write a short story on InterNutter's Bulletin Board, and this was the result. Pure fluff, which I'm not especially good at, but my inspiration fairy deserted me and I was doing laundry that afternoon, so... here you go...   
  
On another note, this is officially the shortest fic I've ever written, as well as my first attempt at pure humour. Not a scrap of angst to be seen! I think I'd better go have a rest. I must be coming down with something. An actually happy fictive? *Trundles off mumbling incredulously*  
  
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'X-Asperated' By Scribbler, for Judit.  
March 2003  
  
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"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"I said no!"  
  
"Pretty please? With syrup on top?"   
  
Beast looked up at the commotion, disturbed from his reading. He was sequestered on the couch of the Rec. Room with a new copy of Scientist Monthly, and had thought himself safe from the students for at least another hour. Or at least until they arrived back from their mass exodus to the mall, at any rate.  
  
Inwardly he heaved a deep sigh as three figures trawled into the room, one hot on the heels of the other. Amara stalked with all the regal air she could muster - which wasn't much, considering she was covered from head to toe in bits of lint and random small pieces of laundry - while Jamie wheedled after her and Jubilee leaned nonchalantly on the doorframe. All three looked rather frazzled, and trailed behind them items of clothing like a veritable Hansel-and-Gretal-plus-one.  
  
Amara spun round, glaring. "What part of 'no' don't you understand?"  
  
Jamie fell back a pace, expression broken, and Beast decided to step in before the less compassionate, more sensible part of his brain told him otherwise.  
  
"Excuse me?" he said, laying the magazine aside and pushing his glasses up on top of his head. "Is there a reason behind this odd fashion statement, or is it the latest off the Paris catwalk?"  
  
Amara spun again, apparently not having noticed him sitting there. _Will wonders never cease?_  
  
"Catwalk?" she stammered, clearly not understanding. There were times when coming from a remote island devoid of modern technological advances was an eminent thing to profess. Now was not, however, one of those times.  
  
Jamie looked at his teacher with the air of one who has just spotted salvation, and Beast suddenly found himself with a small boy attached to his right arm not unlike a limpet.  
  
"Mr. McCoy!" Jamie cried. "You can help us!"  
  
"Uh, quite," said Beast, trying to peel him off and failing miserably. "May I enquire as to what exactly is going on here?"  
  
Amara composed herself rapidly, and pointed a well-manicured fingernail in Jubilee's direction. "*She*," she said shrilly, "Just blew up the clothes dryer in the basement! *While* the clothes were still in it."   
  
Beast groaned. "Not *again*, Jubilation."  
  
Jubilee popped an extra large pink bubble, scraped it off her cheek, and shrugged. Her expression bespoke a little more guilt than her body language, though. "Sorry, but I can't help it. My power sometimes catches me by surprise. I was only trying to help Jamie out with his laundry and then *paf*."  
  
"Followed in short order by a *boom*, no doubt," Beast said wearily. He rose to his feet, Jamie still clinging, and paused only long enough to remove the spectacles from his head. "Were all of his clothes inside at the time?"  
  
"Pretty much. Except for the stuff he's standing up in, of course."  
  
_They would be._ "So how do you fit into all of this, Miss Aquilla?"  
  
"They wanted me to flame up to dry his stupid clothes," Amara snarled, wrinkling her nose like the very idea was distasteful. "Can you imagine? A member of the Nova Roman Royal family used as no more than a mere... a mere clothes horse?"  
  
Beast sighed. So much for his quiet evening. Ororo encouraged the students to do their own laundry, to help them develop more domestic skills, but scenes like this one were all too common where mutant teenagers without a full handle on their powers were concerned. Just last week Ray had managed to short-circuit the TV just by pressing a button on the remote, and Roberto was forever knocking things over when he dusted too vigorously with his enhanced strength.   
  
A red and yellow striped sock spontaneously flew from the crown of Jamie's head and attached itself to Beast's cheek. He pulled it away, leaving a mess of fur full of static, then tried to remove the offending item from where it had stuck to his hand. Since Jamie held his other arm captive, all he could do was shake it up and down like he was trying to fly, and he knew he made for a comical picture when Jubilee snorted so much her gum fell out and glued to the front of her ever-worn yellow jacket.  
  
"Let's see what we can do, eh? As I recall, there are four dryers to use - "  
  
"Don't bother," Amara sniffed. "Something happened to all the dryers. None of them will work." She attempted to remove a shirt from where it had stuck to her back, turning a full circle before she even managed to touch the thing and uttering a string of foreign curses. "These two *accosted* me when running from the damage. By Jupiter! This is undignified!"  
  
"Ah," was all Beast could say. He was no whiz as a homemaker, much to his chagrin, and scratched his furry head as he tried to figure out what to do. All three children stared up at him trustingly. After all, he was their teacher, and teachers always knew what to do in crises.  
  
The opposite door opened, revealing a shadowy form clutching a can of something with a red label and chugging the contents. Beast seized his chance.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Logan can help you out. He - uh," _Grasping at straws? What a good tutor you are. McCoy._ He had a flash of inspiration nearly as sharp as his fangs, which he promptly showed in a toothy smile. "He can take you three downtown to a Laundromat in the X-Van."  
  
"He will?" Logan nearly choked as a euphoric Jamie tackled his midriff and clasped it in a bear hug. "Oh, thank you Mr. Logan. Thank you so much!"  
  
"Say what now?" Logan looked down, surprised and arching an eyebrow at the small boy. Then he looked around the room, taking in Amara's scowl, Jubilee's spread-wide hands and pseudo-innocent expression.  
  
Finally, he eagle eye came to rest on Beast, who was at that Jamie-free moment trying to edge out of the room. "Hey, come back here Poindexter. Whaddya think you're doin'?"  
  
_Escaping the perils of domesticity._ "Ah, I think I hear Ororo calling me. The students can explain the situation to you, I'm sure."  
  
The aerobic eyebrow went up again. "I don't hear nuthin', McCoy."  
  
"Yes, well, I have an extra perceptive sense of hearing - "  
  
"So do I. What're you - "  
  
But Beast was already at the doorway, and waved lightly at the two girls before making good his escape.   
  
"No time to stop, really have to dash. She sounds quite insistent."  
  
Logan watched him go, crushing the beer can and feeling the last buzz of alcohol leave his system as quickly as it'd come. Healing factor was useful in a fight, but it cured him too easily of simple pleasures, sometimes. Like getting roaring drunk. He was lucky if he got even tipsy after downing a whole bottle of vodka. He tossed the warped metal over his shoulder, listening to the satisfying *thunk* as it landed squarely in the trashcan.  
  
_Perfect every time._  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Logan," Jamie said again, dragging him back to the present.   
  
"So what am I supposed to be doin' with you runts?"  
  
"Taking us to the Laundromat," Jubilee said, popping another bubble, but looking slightly more unsure of herself than before. "Uh, I kinda paffed the dryers... and they went *boom*."  
  
"You what?" His eyes went wide. "Aw, cra- hell! I ain't doin' that!"  
  
"I think you'd better," said Amara, slipping behind him and picking up something small and white from the hallway.  
  
"And why's that, Princess?"  
  
"Because I don't think these are Jamie's." She held up an oversized pair of Y-fronts, which had been diligently embroidered with 'Logan' across the pocket. A present from Kitty last Christmas, and Logan blushed furiously as he snatched them back.  
  
"Y'mean *my* laundry was in with the kid's?"  
  
"I was only trying to help?" Jamie said, a tremble in his voice as he backed away and grabbed Jubilee's comforting hand. "I emptied the basket in the upstairs bathroom and took it all down to the basement to wash and dry."  
  
Logan's jaw muscle twitched. "*Everything* from the upstairs basket?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
He had no time to say more, for an unearthly shriek suddenly rent the Institute from top to bottom, making all of them - sensitive hearing or no - cover their ears and wince.  
  
"Who the *hell* left my undies out in the *hallway*!"  
  
"What was *that* - unk!" Jamie asked, just before Logan scooped him up and hurried out of the room, Jubilee and Amara scampering behind them.  
  
"That, kid, was a very angry Half-Pint, and unless I get you outta here before she phases after you, you ain't even gonna amount to a quarter-pint."  
  
Jamie took one look at his stony face and gulped, then turned in his arms and pointed towards the exit into the garage, uttering what Kurt was always wont to say when running from an irate 'Kätzchen' after some prank or other.  
  
"Schnell! Schnell!"  
  
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Fin.  
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End file.
